Friday, September 28, 2001

ZooK

Did I run? I thought I was walking.

I'll say only this: I just found out that David Foster Wallace is teaching a regular Creative Writing class here this semester. I mean regular.***!*** By this I mean that anyone can sign up. Allegedly on the first day of class he showed up in a Nirvana t-shirt and announced that the classroom was now officially a "smoking room". He has established a smoking room in a non-smoking building. He is teaching poetry, prose, and non-fiction. It is his last semester here. I am jealous and mad. And jealous. Ah well.

Ryan Adams will be a star in less than 1 week.

Matt Fast is a star. No one else could pull off walking around naked save a t-shirt and grabbing himself.

Read a BLARG, or the Onion

Scott: Foucault would say that your fear of security fences is really a fear of security in general. I would say that one of those things ripped my pants three years ago at the Buy.

Quinn&Co.:See you tonight. NO one is planning on driving, so you could have a house full of drunkards. Could? Could.

Next five: "new york, new york" by ryan adams; "here's to shutting up" by superchunk; anything by Uncle Tupelo where Jeff Tweedy sings; "count me in on a smoking classroom if it means I get to learn how to actually write" by ZooK and the Lane of Lois Singers; and "faded" by the afghan whigs.

In the stereo: Ryan Adams.

***!***My Regular Creative Writing class included 8 people from various frats/girlfrats who took it to avoid some other class in their major.

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